


Chapter 2 - The Third Guest

by MetaVirus



Series: Duty [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Historical Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:01:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4448036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetaVirus/pseuds/MetaVirus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two stone lanterns signaled the entrance into the garden, their light long extinguished from their last use. Next to the lantern on the right was a beautiful tsukubai inscribed with a poem that Killua did not recognize. Gon stopped and grabbed the wooden ladle that lain across the water basin. He scooped up the water from the small chozubachi (basin) and poured it on his left hand and then his right. Afterwards he scooped more water and poured it again into his free hand and brought it to his mouth. Killua watched Gon purify himself, how easy it would be to slit his throat now while his mind was occupied with the ritualistic entrance to the garden. Killua keeps his daggers sheathed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 2 - The Third Guest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lesetoilesfous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesetoilesfous/gifts).



> A few unfamiliar words I have used that you may want to know while reading:  
> Tsukubai - an arrangement of stones  
> Chozubachi - the basin in the middle of the tsukubai  
> Chaniwa - a traditional Japanese garden that's main use is for tea ceremonies and solitary thought  
> Shakuhachi - a traditional flute-like instrument  
> Hakama - a piece of clothing worn, usually, by high ranking men

                Killua's neck snaps towards the sliver of sun that is beginning to peak over the horizon and takes a step back, forcing Gon's hand to fall from where it lay on Killua's shoulder to hang at his side once more.

                "I'd like to live a life past today, Gon."

                "I promise we will make it past the next sunrise, together."

                "I don't think you understand what's at stake here." Killua thinks of his family, the people who raised him, his siblings, others of the Iga-ryū school whom he trained with, it would mean leaving it all behind.

                Looking at Gon now, the red of the sun over the horizon lighting his face, was it worth leaving behind the life Killua knows on the mere idea, the mere sentiment, that perhaps he could live a life beyond that of a fickle assassin who's only duty, only honor, was to be found in the client with the most gold laden purse? The only thing that mattered in his life was the direction the wind blew, for only those who could afford it may take advantage of his services.

                With both their weapons concealed within their sheaths and the distance between them only a step, Killua sighs. He resigns himself to his heart like a retainer to his lord, like the moon does to the sun as night ends and day begins. He removes the cloth covering his light hair and closes his eyes.

 

                Death was inevitable; this was what Silva told Killua on more than one occasion. The Zoldycks simply served as a hand in moving life towards it before it's natural time. It was a career almost as old as prostitution, because just as there is always someone wanting sex, there is always someone wanting death. And like a prostitute he had no choice in his clients, he was simply told what to do or suffer the consequences of infidelity. Or perhaps it was more so that Killua was the concubine of death, constantly bringing it to fruition because it was what kept his belly full of rice and his family off his back. Death was a cruel lord, demanding and dangerous. Killua recalls his few days infiltrating a theater troupe, he had known what their job entailed, but it was only after his client had shed his kimono and fundoshi had his throat been slit. Killua sat with his blood running cold at the unsavory and viscious threats that had been yelled at him when he was on stage, the things that could have happened had he not been who he was. Weakness led to terrible tragedy, so he counted his upbringing as a blessing. But everything had a weakness, the lacquered armor of a samurai slowing his movements in hopes of defense, the thinness of the cloth he wore in hopes of stealth and speed.

                Killua would die one day. So would Gon. Even in infidelity Killua was still a Zoldyck, because death never lets a concubine go.

 

                Killua extended his right hand and opened his eyes to look at Gon. He held out his pinky finger as he spoke

                "I'll cut all your fingers off if you're lying."

Gon smiles and wraps his tanned little finger around Killua's white one,

                "Pinky promise, if I lie, I'll swallow a thousand needles, and cut this finger off!" Gon belts the familiar rhyme and squeezes the warm finger in his own. His eyes crinkle as a wide smile appears on his face. "I haven't seen you in years..." the white finger entwined with Gon's was slender and bony, but if this encounter has told him anything, Killua was still as trustworthy as when they were boys. Killua smiles a fraction, it truly had been more than just a few seasons. Killua remembers the toothy grin Gon used to give him, the way he'd stick his tongue out from the hole where one of his front teeth was missing (most likely from falling on his face Killua knew without a doubt). That was before...

 

                They stood there for a moment in silence before Gon pulled Killua forward by keeping his finger entwined with the younger man's. He instantly enveloped Killua in his arms. Killua breathed in what had made him recognize Gon in the first place, the familiarity. The scent of maple, the sea, of a place Killua wouldn't dare call home in front of his parents lest they decide to burn it down. A childhood that he wished he could have lived.

                Killua didn't hug Gon back, but neither mentioned it. Personal space and privacy was never one of Gon's specialities but Killua was so glad that he respected it this one time. The sun was already rising past the skyline, it was too late to begin his travels back to his family. Perhaps they would simply think that Killua required another day to perform the assassination correctly…but the lack of news of  Daimyō Kurapika's demise would be unsettling for them.

 

                "Killua."

 

Within the next few days if they don't receive word they'd probably send someone to restrain Killua and bring him back to the mountain for re-education. Who would they send though? A servant? Too risky, most likely a family member. Illumi would volunteer no doubt. Illumi might want to leave come the next sunrise when Killua doesn't return.

 

                "Killua!"

 

Killua looked up wide-eyed to the man in front of him. Gon's hand was resting on his shoulder once more.

 

                "I want you to meet my Daimyō."

 

                Gon led Killua past the nightingale floor, as silently as before even with his armor and sword weighing him down, through hallways with more nightingale floors. There he stepped back outside onto a stone path that Killua knew led to the Daimyō's famous Chaniwa in a courtyard contained in the middle of the castle where only those invited may enter. It was said that Kurapika of the Kurta never allowed guards into his garden, only those invited and those who cared and maintained it were allowed beyond the stone pathway.

                Although Killua had never met the man he knew much about the Daimyō Gon served. Kurapika of the Kurta was said to be both charismatic and kind to his followers, poor as he was he spent all his gold on feeding and housing those who came to him for refuge. It was said that he was born with the qualities of a great and knowledgeable leader as well as beauty beyond that of the most popular concubines. Although his castle was sad in comparison to those with heavier purses, Kurapika was said to hold a chaniwa so beautiful anyone who drank tea with him there would surely wish to serve him till death. Killua didn't believe in the supernatural, nor rumors, but sometimes whispers held inklings of truth. The truth in what he had heard was definitely held there he realized, as the stepping stones Gon led him on weaved into a more solitary area.

                Two stone lanterns signaled the entrance into the garden, their light long extinguished from their last use. Next to the lantern on the right was a beautiful tsukubai inscribed with a poem that Killua did not recognize. Gon stopped and grabbed the wooden ladle that lain across the water basin. He scooped up the water from the small chozubachi (basin) and poured it on his left hand and then his right. Afterwards he scooped more water and poured it again into his free hand and brought it to his mouth. Killua watched Gon purify himself, how easy it would be to slit his throat now while his mind was occupied with the ritualistic entrance to the garden. Killua keeps his daggers sheathed.

                Gon stepped forward to allow Killua to purify himself next. Killua found himself snorting a little in distaste which made Gon give him a pleading look. No amount of water would purify Killua, but it would be in bad taste to be received without doing so. Killua did as Gon had and let the cold water from the bamboo pipe in the tsukubai cleanse his hands and mouth. Up closer Killua could recognize some of the engraved words on the water basin. He couldn't understand it completely, most seemed to be in a dialect he did not know but he could pick out a few kanji he could read: crimson, family, eyes, and pasture. Something that was clearly beloved to Gon's dear Daimyō even if it was of a scripture uncommon to even the most educated folk.

                Gon waited for Killua to finish before leading him into the courtyard's garden. The stone pathway winding further in as the dripping water of the tsukubai's bamboo pipe vanished and something resembling a larger body of water replaced it. Amidst the trimmed trees and blooming shrubs was a small pond which was a beautiful jade green. Gon continued to lead Killua on a wooden bridge that was painted a stunning crimson along with engraved designs of tribal symbols, no doubt another remnant of the Kurta that Kurapika held onto desperately.

                Across the pond and along the path beside it the two came upon an open porch where Kurapika held his tea ceremonies regularly. On the porch already sat a man atop his folded knees, his eyebrows knit, and what could only be described as a snore resembling the cry of a dying deer resonating from his mouth.

                "LEORIO!" Gon yelled, startling both the sleeping man and Killua. The unfamiliar man clutched at his chest and let out a yelp of surprise.

                "GON PLEASE DON'T YELL KURAPIKA WILL BE FURIOUS" the man exclaims, clearly not following his own advice. It takes Leorio a moment to notice Killua standing beside Gon, a stark contrast against the tan samurai. The first thing Leorio notices is the silver curls that fell from the man's head, along with the striking eyes, and uncommon dress. It wasn't the first time that Gon dragged a stranger into the chaniwa, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but this stranger made Leorio feel unsettled.

                "Leorio this is my friend Killua!" Gon gestures to the man by his side. "I want to introduce him to Daimyō Kurapika because we have a favour to ask of him."

                "A favour? What in the hell did your friend do??" Leorio squints at the space between Killua and Gon, Killua notes that he most likely has bad sight.

                "He came to assassinate Kurapika." Gon states holding his index finger up and smiling as if educating a child. He almost looks proud and both Killua and Leorio are speechless.

                "Gon I dunno if that's how you want to introduce me."

                "But you are an assassin who was supposed to kill Kurapika?"

                "Sometimes lying is better than the truth."

                "Ehhhh but Killua it's fine, you'll like eachother."

                "Gon no you can't just tell people that I was going to kill them 15 minutes ago, it WILL NOT make a good first impression."

                "What do you want me to say then??"

 

Leorio watches Killua and Gon's exchange, the words flowing from one another in familiarity. No doubt they've known eachother a long time but there was also something uncomfortable about the entire predicament. Gon's abilities in judging character wasn't always the best to say the least, and while Leorio trusts Gon with his life, he's not sure he trusts this sharp eyed fellow who was now kicking Gon's shin a tad harder than necessary to be playful. Killua's eyes squints as he smiles in a way that pushed his cheeks up and Gon laughes while grabbing his armored belly.

                "Whatever Gon but please settle down, Kurapika will be here soon to start and you know he doesn't like it when he's interupted." Leorio said while rubbing at the stubble covering his chin. Leorio wore a thick cut of  dark blue silk as well as a hakama atop it. To be speaking so frankly about his Daimyō as well as his dress meant he was of high rank, or at the least very important to his lord.

                A shuffling behind the screen door made both Leorio and Gon snap their necks towards the sound. Gon stumbled as he attempted to sit next to Leorio with his legs folded neatly underneath him, he looked at Killua with such a panicked expression that suddenly Killua rushed to his side to sit in the same fashion. The person on the other side of the screen cleared their throat and both Gon and Leorio straightened their backs in unison. Killua tried desperately to hold in the giggle that found his way up his throat. He looked down and quickly schooled his expression, from their reactions it had to have been Daimyō Kurapika on the other side of the screen door.

                The door slid open as a man in a red kimono entered. Killua watches as Kurapika silently walks to sit across the three men, not even batting an eye at Killua's unfamiliar face. Between them sat an array of utensils necessary to hold a tea ceremony, which didn't surprise Killua considering that the entire purpose of a chaniwa was to necessitate the correct atmosphere for it. Kurapika bows deeply to the guests, moreso than necessary, and greets them fondly.

                "Welcome" Daimyō Kurapika's voice is soft, it reminded Killua of the sound of the shakuhachi his grandfather plays. He used to sit and listen to him play it in the garden next to the dungeon whenever he was forced into solitary confinement. It was a source of comfort, which Killua wouldn't allow to cloud his judgement of the man in front of his eyes now. Even he could speak in sweet birdsong and relax a man before death, tone meant nothing if the person who speaks isn't truthful.

                Kurapika continued on with the ceremony in silence as he saw the unfamiliar guest watch him intently. Kurapika moved the utensils into their proper place before producing a cloth and folding it neatly in full sight of his three guests. He grabs one of the cups and gently wipes the rim and then places it back down. Killua watches Kurapika's white hands gesture graciously as he continues into the ceremony, cleaning the utensils in silence before beginning to prepare the tea. In the corner of his eye he sees Leorio watching just as intently, but more so on Kurapika's eyes than than his hands. Leorio is simply noting how the eyeslashes of the Daimyō is casting a shadow onto his young cheeks. After whisking the bowl of tea to his liking, Kurapika places it before Leorio, who bows and accepts it with a expression of gratitude, Kurapika bows again. Leorio then turns to Gon, bows and raises the bowl and takes a sip before wiping the rim and passing it to Gon. After Gon has drunk as well, Killua recieves the tea. Killua drinks what is left, only after which Kurapika begins to end the ceremony. This is all done in absolute silence, minus the chirping of the birds and the water of the pond.

                Once Kurapika signals the end of the ceremony both Gon and Leorio's backs slump forward and they sigh in tandem. Kurapika then gives Gon a stern look as he speaks,

                "May I ask why in the world you still have your armor and sword in tow?" Gon's eyes widen and then he sheepishly rubs his thick hair.

                "I forgot."

                "Gon I told you last time not to wear your armor to my ceremonies."

                "I'm sorry, Daimyō..." Gon glances to the tatami mats with what looks like a small smile on his lips. It wasn't a true scolding, simply a common morning occurance like the sun rising.

                "So Gon, who is our third guest today?" Kurapika smiles graciously tilting his head towards Killua.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent hours reading and watching videos of tea ceremonies however I wasn't very specific as to what type of ceremony this is. Moreso I just want to highlight the importance of it's symbolism in Kurapika's heritage. I'm sorry it took awhile but I get sidetracked while researching.
> 
> Also, please google chaniwa garden and look at the pictures because they are absolutely stunning. Perhaps also youtube Shakuhachi honkyoku as well.


End file.
